


Who Killed Niall Horan?

by aesthxtic



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Detective Zayn, F/F, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Mystery, Some Fluff, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthxtic/pseuds/aesthxtic
Summary: I killed Niall HoranI'm sorry-Or the one where everyone believes Harry is at fault, including Harry himself.





	1. Prologue

I killed Niall Horan.

I killed Niall Horan

I killed Niall Horan

I killed Niall Horan

I KILLED NIALL HORAN

Harry viciously scraped the same four words over and over again onto his wooden floor in his bedroom. With big salty tears pouring down his face, and ugly sobs escaping his thin lips every so often, he murmured the words as he carved and carved. He carved until his floor was filled, hands raw and tired. He attempted to carve his walls but the material wouldn't budge so walked into the conjoined bathroom he and his older sister had been sharing while she was visiting, and grabbed the reddest lipstick she had from the medicine cabinet before using it as a tool to write the same words all across the walls, windows, doors, mirrors, and even ceiling.

I KILLED NIALL HORAN

I KILLED NIALL HORAN

I KILLED NIALL HORAN

Without hesitation, Harry ripped a paper out of a tattered notebook from his desk before writing two simple words on it.

I'm sorry

He placed it on his bed that had been a victim of Harry's blade, fabric ripped with stuffing sticking out. He looked in the mirror, seeing his reflection as the words in bright red covered his face.

He deserved so much worse than what he was about to do, he had convinced himself. 

He continued to look at his reflection, behind the red was his face; tattered, bruised, scratched, but most importantly covered in blood. Blood that wasn't his own.

With one final glimpse, a wipe of tears, and another sob, he made his way to his window. Without a second thought, he opened the glass doors that lead to his balcony outside. He moved to the edge, hopping one leg after the other across the metal fencing, and only using a light grip to stop himself from falling.

He looked down at the ground below. It was far below, Harry only hoped it was far enough to do the job. He looked up, once again noting it was a full moon. His mind brought him back to just a few hours prior where Niall and him were laying down in an empty field, their usual spot, and admiring how the moon lit up the night sky.

Harry remembered caressing Niall's face, telling him how beautiful he looked under the moonlight. The way Niall had blushed, and giggled into Harry's neck. Harry wondered how it could have all gone so wrong.

"Harry!" He heard, snapping him back to the present.

He looked down below and noticed there were figures running towards his direction across the large field. One of them he recognized as his old sister, Gemma. He also noticed the flashing red and blue lights off in the distance.

It was time.

Harry closed his eyes, one final tear escaping. "I'm sorry." He whispered one last time before loosening his grip on the fence.

"HARRY! NO!" Was the last thing he heard as he let go, and for a short period felt the cool rush of wind sweeping his body before he felt nothing at all.


	2. How It Began (Before)

Harry’s mother had tried to raise him right, she really had and for the most part Harry had listened. Growing up he ate his vegetables so he could grow up to be big, buff, and strong (though he ended up long, slim, and lanky), he always said his ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s’, he opened doors for others, and helped sweet old ladies cross the road; he was raised to know better.

Commitment was not one of those lessons. His mother never sat him down and told him the importance of being loyal to a partner. It was obvious to many, even to Harry at one point. But when Harry was young he experienced the truth of his father’s infidelity, he saw his mother’s tears, he knew how much his mother had loved his father only to have his father throw it all away for a woman from the corner. His mother’s desperate attempt to keep herself and her two kids together. Newly single, heartbroken, and financially scraping by. It tore Harry apart.

His sister Gemma had experienced a pregnancy shortly after to a boyfriend she had sworn was the perfect one. He hadn’t lasted a month into the pregnancy before deciding fatherhood wasn’t for him and also abandoning her for a very not pregnant college girl, leaving Gemma alone as a teenage single mother. She hasn’t loved since.

So to many, being loyal and committed to a partner may seem simply logical, but men around Harry’s life had shown him otherwise. Harry had decided then at his young age of twelve he wouldn’t love nor be in a committed relationship ever.

So he went, lived his life without a care in the world.  He kept his promise; losing his virginity at sixteen at a party to a college girl and discovering how exciting living and being a hormonal teenager could be. He got around with several girls, all knowing they wouldn’t be able to tame Harry though some had tried and failed. He soon found out as well that guys were a lot of fun to fool around with to.

He made friends with an older college boy when Harry was in his senior year of high school. Louis Tomlinson, a funny, witty, and handsome man. A very not single man who had been in a relationship with a gorgeous girl since high school. Louis wanted Harry though. At the time Harry knew better, knew how the cheated felt, how it destroyed them, but when it came down to it, all Harry had done was wish Eleanor would find better and let it happen.

It came easy to be with Louis. He wasn’t expecting anything, he had Eleanor for that. They satisfied each other, understood each other, and had fun and Harry was still free to do whatever he wanted with anyone else. It had been the perfect compromise.

That was until the summer after his high school graduation. That’s when he met Niall Horan. Niall was knew in town, having enrolled to the college the next city over, the same one has Harry. Niall had later told him that they had moved there because his family had always lived in a tiny town in Maine and they had wanted to stay close with Niall so they had all packed their bags, and moved to slightly bigger Alvin, Colorado. They’d live there while Niall would attend the college in the big city thirty miles away. Harry had found it sweet. Niall said it was annoying.

Harry hadn’t known what so special about Niall; what caused him to be so captivated by the faux blond. Niall was handsome, he truly was, but at first glance or even at first impression, he wasn’t particularly memorable. He laughed loudly at everything which Harry had first found to be quite annoying, he wasn’t particularly fit with bit too scrawny legs in Harry’s opinion, and his braces failed at being invisible like Niall had been trying to do. Yet Harry had found himself drawn to him. They met at the small park their town provided. Louis had convinced him to go and play soccer with some friends. Niall, a complete stranger to them all, appeared out of nowhere introduced himself and acted like they were all his long lost best friends’. Louis’ jock college friends’ had at first been clearly put off but as soon as Niall showed them just how swift he could be with a ball, he was welcomed right in. Harry was mesmerized.

He found himself doing dumb little things to catch Niall’s attention. He’d tell stupid jokes that clearly weren’t funny yet made Niall double over; he quickly began to love that laugh. He’d walk Niall home when they all stayed out too late, gave him a tour of the town even though there wasn’t much and it clearly wasn’t necessary, and Niall only seemed to be interested in Harry as well.

It was Louis of all people who told him one night after a particularly good “session” to ask the blond out.

“I don’t date,” he had said.

“Considering I’m willing to give up one of my best fuck buddies for the cause, I’m saying that you should at least try one date with him,” Louis had said. “You clearly fancy him, no shut up you do, and even a blind man would know Horan has a hard on for you. He’s a good guy, Haz. Even you know that. ”

Harry had thought about it, deep in the back of his mind that maybe he should give Niall a shot but the big thing stopping him was the shiny purity ring on Niall’s pale finger. Harry knew it was a tad bit conceding but Harry loved sex and Niall clearly didn’t want any of that. Was he really willing to live a life of chastity over a guy he had only really known for a month?

He was eighteen! He was about to enter his first year of college, the time where he partied harder and lived a freer life. After all this time, now hadn’t been the time of all times to finally settle down in a relationship.

Yet somehow the next day he had found himself asking the smaller, pale boy out. Blushing red, he had agreed. It went amazing.

One date turned to two, then three, four, five, and soon Harry found himself with his first ever boyfriend. Niall was perfect for Harry. He was funny, goofy, caring, and so kind. He loved to party alongside Harry, even being a better lover of alcohol than the curly haired boy. He got along great with Harry’s friends, even Louis who was a hard shell to crack.

But when their relationship reached the six month mark and that dang purity ring hadn’t budged, it began driving Harry insane. He was young and often horny, he couldn’t help the urge of wanting some relief. Niall, coming from a very conservative Catholic upbringing insisted otherwise. Niall’s parents didn’t bother to hide their distaste in their son’s relationship status with a man, he didn’t know why Niall even tried to please them, let alone still follow a religion that didn’t respect him. Niall always insisted otherwise, claiming Harry just didn’t understand and he hadn’t. 

He blamed it on the ring when it first happened. He was sexually frustrated, drunk, and Niall had stayed home to finish an essay. Louis was wasted alongside him. Louis had always looked so pretty, and when he began touching him, the smaller brunette didn’t stop him. Harry felt just a bit freer again.

Guilt had been something that he believed would eat him away. But to his astonishment, Harry had felt satisfied in a way he hadn’t in so long. That’s when he felt a little bit guilty, the guilt of not feeling guilty. Louis promised not to tell, not being a stranger to assisting in infidelity.

All continued normal though, Niall never knew so he got the benefit of still having his lovely boyfriend and if maybe he could find the relief Niall wasn’t willing to give in someone else, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. As long as Niall never found out, they both could be happy. Harry relieving his libido, and Niall could continue his practice of abstinence.

Harry knew deep in his mind that it was wrong, that if his mother or sister found out they’d be so terribly disappointed and ashamed of him. But when the nights came with Louis in his bed, lips on him, hands and body making him feel so incredibly good, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. So he didn’t.

After all, he hadn’t been married and had two kids with Niall like his mother and he wasn’t sixteen and pregnant like his sister had been. He wasn’t planning on leaving Niall for another man or woman anytime soon either. As long as Niall never found out, what was the harm?

…

**So you don’t get confused, I will put Before in the title when the chapter is taking place before the prologue and I’ll put After when the chapter is taking place after the prologue. For instance, this chapter is a bit of an overview on Niall and Harry’s relationship before the prologue incident so it has Before in the title. **


	3. Chapter 2 (AFTER)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being depressed is what Harry does best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again as a reminder, the AFTER means this is taken after the incident in the prologue.

**AFTER**

 

Does anyone deserve to actually die? Many would more than likely say no, that every life does indeed matter. Some though, might say yes. Despite life being such a valuable thing, there are dark and twisted people who have done bad deeds. There are rapists, thieves, and there are murderers. Do they really deserve to die too? Or should they be imprisoned and forced to suffer until the day they do die, forcing the government to use innocent people's tax money to keep those jailed alive.

Harry believed he deserved to die.

Harry believed he was dark.

Harry believed he was twisted.

Harry believed he was one of the poorest excuses of a man.

Harry wanted to die.

So one can imagine the disappointment he felt when he woke up to shiny, bright, white lights. His head throbbed, and body ached. His mouth felt like sand paper and his throat burned. He heard the light beeping beside him and began to make things out once his eyes adjusted to the bright light surrounding him. He was in a hospital room.

With a groan he pushed his body up in order to sit up, quickly regretting it once sharp pain shot to his head and down his spine. He looked down at his body which made him realize it was more than a struggle than usual. He was wearing a neck brace that made his head movement limited. He saw his left leg casted in white, and a black splint on his right hand.

He had failed. Harry was such a failure in all aspects that he even managed to fail on properly doing his suicide attempt. He wanted to scream, to cry, to just end it all already, but he couldn't. He was stuck in bed, body broken and bruised, in an unfamiliar place with no escape. His misery would never end. Maybe this was his punishment. He didn’t deserve relief.

Suddenly the door knob jiggled before it swung open, revealing a nurse dressed in navy blue scrubs. Her black hair was tied in a bun behind her as she looked down at the clipboard in her arms. When she looked up, her face instantly morphed to one of shock. She quickly recovered though and made her way beside the curly haired brunette.

"I'm glad to see you're finally awake. I'll come send someone in a bit but I'm just going to check if everything is in order." She explained to him. “Anything of immediate concern?” When Harry made no move to answer her too chirpy smile faltered and she went ahead checked Harry's vitals, blood pressure, temperature, and eyes. The usual nurse activities.

After she jotted everything down on the clipboard at the end of his bed, she left and Harry was once again left alone with nothing but the ache of his body and the darkness in his mind. She hadn't even offered Harry any pain killers. Harry supposed he didn't deserve them.

Harry looked around, becoming accustomed to the beeping equipment beside him and the empty chair in the corner of the room.

Not much later, the door opened again. This time though, instead of a doctor like he had been expecting, a man dressed in a casual black suit entered. His black hair was in a high quiff, caramel eyes glaring at him. Harry had to admit that the man was a rather attractive one. That was until the man pulled out a badge from his back pocket and introduced himself.

"I'm detective Zayn Malik. I'm here on the behalf of the missing person investigation case of Niall Horan." The man spoke in a thick, mixed accent. Harry's heart stopped, his blood running cold. "I'm here to ask a few questions regarding Niall."

“Shouldn’t a doctor be checking me first?” Harry asked in a raspy voice.

Zayn grabbed the chair from the corner and pulled it closer to the bed before sitting. "Niall is your boyfriend, correct?" He asked, completely ignoring Harry’s question.

Harry didn't answer but Zayn continued as he looked through the leather notebook in his hands. "It says here that you two have been together for four years, quite a while. According to many, you two were believed to be a sweet, healthy couple. Would you agree with that?" Zayn asked without bothering to look up.

Harry stayed quiet.

"According to your family and Niall's, you two were it for each other. Your sister, Gemma Styles, even mentioned that you had bought a ring, and were planning proposing soon. Now the question is, was this all an act? Were you and Niall really a happy couple or were you two just able to fool everyone around you?"

“Isn’t that your job to find out?” Harry said, wincing at the pain it caused his throat. Zayn got up, finally meeting Harry's eyes with a cold look. He continued, "I'm assuming you know why you're currently our number one suspect. We found your room completely vandalized, and the words 'I killed Niall Horan' very clearly written everywhere. As well were your clothing covered in blood that wasn't just your own. We all believed that we could quickly close your case after a simple trial but there's always a catch, isn't there? The blood on you was rabbit blood and not in fact human. And as easy as it seems to simply say it was obviously you, we need cold hard facts that assure you are his killer one hundred percent. That is if Niall is even dead." Harry barely had time to process what the detective was telling him before Zayn continued. "Where is Niall, Harry? What did you do with him?"

"I killed him." Harry said in an emotionless tone.

"Prove it." Zayn rebutted. This caught Harry of guard.

"What?"

"Prove you're the killer. Why did you kill him, where did you kill him, and where did you leave the body?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer only to find out his mind was blank. He had no recollection of anything. The last thing he truly remembered was entering his room, mind racing, heart pounding as he began to vandalize his room. Harry became perplexed.

"I-I don't know." That was apparently not the answer Zayn wanted. The detective's face became emotionless except for his cold eyes.

"Further questioning will occur soon. Since you're a vital suspect, until you admit to anything and more evidence is found, along with Niall dead or alive, expect to find yourself in police custody once you're discharged from here. You're not allowed to communicate with any friends or family until further notice. Keep this up Mr. Styles, and we'll find ourselves really acquainted with one another and that's not exactly a good thing."

…

Lying in that hospital bed in his situation was hell. They had assigned him a therapist in hopes of getting him comfortable enough to coax something out of him but Harry was no fool. He knew that he couldn’t confide anything in Dr. Wilter’s office. Everything he said would be used against him in court though as much as Harry wanted to comply Harry could not remember that night for the dear life of him.

“How are you today, Harry?” Most of his sessions began with.

“Still suicidal.” Was always his answer, and today was no different.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Death”

“Have you been taking the medication I’ve assigned you?” She asked. Harry hadn’t. He’d tuck the pills under his tongue and as soon as the nurse left, he’d throw them away to the potted plant near him.

“Yeah”

“Have you had any new memories? You’ve said before that the last clear memory you have with Niall is from a week before the incident, correct? You two were at a party but you don’t remember much afterwards, so you’ve said.”

“I was drunk.” He replied bluntly.

“Yes, yes I know. Nothing clear about the day after? Witnesses say you two went home together.”

“Probably. We probably went and fucked. We do that a lot when we’re drunk.” He nonchalantly shrugged.

“Did,” She corrected.

“You don’t know if he’s dead.” Harry said before he realized it. The nurse raised one brow, finding the small detail interesting.

“Oh, so you aren’t sure about Niall’s condition?”

Harry didn’t reply.

“You’ve been pretty persistent that Mr. Horan is deceased. What changed? Have you remembered anything?” Her question was met with silence. She sighed and tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear, sitting her pencil and notebook down to the side.

“Harry, your life is on the line here. I know you aren’t in a good place mentally. Depression is something that’s hard to come to terms with and handle, but if there’s even a doubt in your mind that you aren’t the cause of this, that’s okay. You can’t take the blame when it can’t be secured that it was you because whoever did do this is the one that deserves to be punished. Not you.”

“You’ve said it yourself. I’m fucked up, what did you say, mentally unstable? How do you know I didn’t do this? How do you know I didn’t just crack and bash him with something? Stab him? See the life seep out of his eyes as he begged me to stop? I’m psychotic.” Harry said, voice getting louder and louder.

“I’ve never claimed you’re psychotic, Harry. Mentally unstable does not equal insane. It just means there’s a lot going on in that head of yours that needs to get sorted. It’s my job to get it sorted and feeling better.”

“So you’re basically saying I’m just another angsty, white guy. Sometimes, doctor, those are the ones you need to watch out for the most.”

“Perhaps so Harry. I’m working off of facts and who you are known as. I’ve talked to some of your friends and family, didn’t say anything about you though.” She assured.

“You talked to my family?” Harry asked, sitting a bit straighter.

“Yes, and they all claim that you’re a lovely guy. You’re chronically depressed, reasonably so, you’ve had a tough childhood.”

“Don’t bring my father into this.” Harry gritted, a lot harsher than he intended to. The doctor nodded, seemingly mentally keeping a note on Harry’s sore spot for his father.

“We’ll go into that another day then,” she continued, ignoring Harry’s huff of annoyance. “But Harry I do believe you’re a good man, who under any normal circumstance would not have murdered their boyfriend.”

“I’m afraid you know nothing about me, doctor. My family knows squat about my personal life, and I doubt my friends would reveal anything too serious that wouldn’t get them in trouble either. I’m not a good man, I’ve done bad things. I’ve hurt people before, and I do believe I’m capable of murder.”

The therapist seemed to be caught off guard by Harry’s sudden change of attitude but nodded her head recognition.  “We’ll see, Harry. The truth can only hide for so long. I think this should be enough for this today’s session.”

“Don’t I have another appointment Thursday?”

“I think it’s best if we wait a week. And Harry, please take your medication.”

…

“For someone who claims they want to get arrested, you’re not making this any easier.” Zayn said.

“You told me I couldn’t get away with lying, and I honestly don’t remember. I did it though.” Harry said with a shrug that he quickly regretted once his neck started pulsating again.

“Yeah, yeah so you keep saying. I need solid evidence, a motive, it has to add up and there’s many pieces to you Harry Styles, but nothing is clicking.”

“Besides the fact I literally wrote it all over my room and then tried to kill myself?”

“When you talk like that you make it sound like it was all a set up plan.” The raven haired man said.

“I feel like I did it, I deserved to be punished. Pay my dues, and all that.” Zayn huffed at that.

“So now you’re saying you feel like you did it? That’s not gonna cut it. We have other suspects too, you know. You’re just the main one, and I was hired by the DA to get you arrested. We all think you did it, but that isn’t enough. I’m afraid the law doesn’t work like that.”

“There’s other suspects? Who?” Harry asked, frazzled.

“We’re good at our job, we can dig up dirt. Niall was loved by many but no one is loved by all. I’ll leave it at that.”

That stumped Harry a bit. Who could possibly be a suspect? Everyone they knew loved Niall, no way someone else just decided to off him. Josh maybe? Harry knew Josh had the biggest crush on Niall, and was seriously pissed when the two started dating and has held a grudge since. But if Josh was going to murder anyone it would be Harry. Sandy perhaps? He was one of the few people that perhaps Niall never seemed to hit it off with. An awkward friendship isn’t the foundation for murder though. Maybe one of Harry’s ex flings? It’s been years though.

“You’ll have your first meeting with your lawyer later. You’re discharged tomorrow and will be taken immediately to custody. Next week is your bail hearing. We’ll work from there.”

“When can I see my family?” He’d figured he’d ask. Despite himself, he truly missed his mother. He could only imagine what her and his sister are going through because of him.

Zayn sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers. “That’ll be up to what your lawyer can sit up for you now with the office. I’m just the detective.”

“You’re a pretty chill detective.”

“And you’re a pretty chill murderer.”

…

Harry took a nap before his lawyer was set to arrive. He dreamt of Niall. It was more of a memory. Niall and he were playing soccer together, the blond doing his best to try to teach Harry. Harry’s coordination similar to one of a newborn giraffe was atrocious. Niall looked beautiful though, grin bright and hair illuminated like a halo.

He dreamt of a much happier time, before it all went down. It all went down because of Harry, Niall was perfect through it all. In his dream, Niall’s laugh was so vivid he could almost consciously hear it.

He stole kisses with his own happy smile.

“What’s gotten into you?” Dream Niall asked in giggles.

“Nothing, just love you.” Harry hummed, bringing the blond closer to him. Niall giggled again and tucked his head into the taller man’s neck.

“Love you, too, dork.”

Harry remembered that day more, it wasn’t a happier time actually. No, it was where it all began. Harry had felt happy and content, but only because he had spent the night before in Louis’ bed. His dream quickly warped and became distant. He woke up, feeling even sicker with himself. He was disgusting.

For the first time since the incident, Harry allowed himself to cry.


End file.
